Chapter 119: The Sorrowful Naville Otter

Was he killed outright?

Alechino stared at the doctor pinned to the ground by the Gungnir, a rising sense of danger swelling within her. In her judgment, Lu Mingze was merely a man who sought amusement; even if he offered assistance, it would be indirect at best, which was why she had prepared for battle.

But the reality was starkly different: Lu Mingze had killed the doctor on the spot, simply because he found him disagreeable, and his expression remained utterly composed, as if casually stepping on an ant while walking. Such blatant contempt for life.

The servant suddenly recalled her own experience in the dream realm when Lu Mingfei had killed her without any hesitation.

No wonder they are brothers of the Dragon King—their attitudes towards others are remarkably alike.

“Is he truly dead?” the servant asked.

Although dreams are not reality, the Dragon King possessed the ability to transform dreams into reality, and Lu Mingze himself could intervene in the real world. Thus, killing the doctor was no great feat for him. Whether the doctor was truly dead depended on his mood, on how he chose to see it.

“He will approach death infinitely, but cannot reach true death,” Lu Mingze whispered as he gazed at the doctor pinned to the ground by the Gungnir. “The Gungnir I have summoned is the legendary spear of destiny. It targets the doctor’s heart within the dream. As long as he remains in the dream, the Gungnir will pierce his heart and strip away the memories he experiences there.”

“The sensation of death transfers from the dream to his body, overwhelming his mind. Every time he wakes from the dream, he undergoes real death again, yet he retains no memory of what transpired in the dream.”

Alechino remained silent. The doctor’s fate was far harsher than hers. If she were killed, at worst it would be painful for a while with some lingering effects. But the doctor was trapped in an endless cycle of death in the dream.

Strangely, Lu Mingfei suddenly seemed quite gentle.

After this reflection, Alechino noticed Lu Mingze’s gaze turn toward her. The playful glint in his eyes sent a chill through her heart. If he acted on a whim, he might kill her right in the dream, without any reason or logic.

So, I must save myself!

“Ahem.” The servant cleared her throat softly. She dared not meet Lu Mingze’s eyes, instead looking toward the doctor and saying, “Wouldn’t it be dull if he just died like this?”

“Hmm? Then what do you propose?” Lu Mingze raised an eyebrow.

“I think you should respect his profession. He was once a researcher, devoted to advancing science. In the dream world, it would be better to satisfy his desire for research, so he can die contentedly. That would be more humane,” the servant replied.

“Research?” Lu Mingze’s mouth curled into a wicked smile, like a demon who had found a delightful toy.

Indeed, someone who enjoys experimenting on others might find it reasonable to personally experience what it feels like to be the subject of research.

With that thought, the little devil’s gaze returned to the doctor, who was now in a state of “dying.”

The Gungnir would kill the doctor in the dream, but as long as Lu Mingze did not release the dream demon, the doctor in the dream would not return to reality and would remain in this state of ongoing death—a feat Lu Mingfei could not accomplish.

The next day.

“Ah!!”

The doctor awoke from the dream with a scream, roaring like a madman. Clutching his body with all his strength, tears streamed from his eyes, and a myriad of agonies erupted from the depths of his soul.

Yet more terrifying than the pain was his ignorance of why he suffered so much. He had no memory of the dream because Lu Mingze had taken it away.

This move originated from the Kingdom of Alchemy’s Seven Great Kingdoms’ technique of causal separation; Lu Mingze had merely imbued this effect into the Gungnir.

“What’s happening? Why? Why is my body and spirit in such torment? Why, why?” The doctor screamed madly, feeling countless complex sensations within him.

He felt as if his limbs were being severed, dangerous energy injected, surgical knives cutting into him, and his heart pierced.

Various pains exploded all at once. Even as the second seat of the Fool’s Order, he could not endure such soul-wrenching agony.

“Was it that guy?”

The doctor covered his head, feeling as if his brain had been dissected. Yet even so, he struggled to recall Phucalos, the powerful water deity who was suspected to be an otherworldly Dragon King.

He had forgotten the name Lu Mingze.

He did not understand why that man did this to him. Was it because he was scheming to steal the Water God’s Heart and thus punished in advance?

No, that didn’t seem right. To a warrior of his caliber, the Water God’s Heart was like a toy that could be discarded at any time. How could that be the reason? If not the Heart, then why attack him now, causing such suffering? And if not him, who else could it be?

Little Lucky Grass King?

She was the Grass God of Sumeru, indeed possessing the power to influence dreams, but without the God’s Heart, he could easily kill her. How could she affect him within Fontaine through dreams?

“Doctor, you seem to have had a rough night?” A familiar voice sounded by the doctor’s ear. Instinctively, he looked toward the source. It was the servant.

She had just entered the room, her hand resting on the doorframe, her eyes a mixture of disdain and concern. But the doctor could tell she worried not about her own safety, but whether his condition might affect the Hearthstone House.

“Just a nightmare,” the doctor said stiffly, gazing at her.

Others might not know Alechino, but he surely knew what was in her heart. If she learned of his weak state, she might seize the chance to kill him—and do so cleanly, without leaving a trace. She might even pin the blame on the Dragon King.

So, the doctor decided to endure silently, hiding his abnormality.

From her demeanor, it was clear she remained unaffected by whatever had transformed him. The one who did this seemed interested only in him.

“I never thought the famous doctor would have nightmares. What did you dream of? Those you experimented on? Will you repent for them?” The servant’s face twisted into a playful smile; she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

The pain he was enduring was something she had once felt too—only the doctor’s suffering was far greater. Such a level of torment was enough to break even the servant’s resilience. And yet, the doctor pretended to be a normal man. Perhaps that marked the difference between the second and fourth seats.

How fascinating.

“Are you joking?” The doctor’s face bore no hint of remorse; instead, his smile was tinged with mockery. His expression was so natural that one could not discern the agony he concealed.

However, inspired by Alechino’s words, another guess surfaced in the doctor’s mind: perhaps the spirits of those who had died in his experiments were attacking him in the dream, using the traumas they had endured.

But this thought vanished almost immediately. Rationally, he did not believe such a thing was truly possible. It was likely just a superficial similarity; the true cause would require further evidence to determine.

Damn, it hurts everywhere.

“People like you, who never learn, will one day be dragged to hell by demons and trampled mercilessly in molten lava,” the servant said with a smile before turning and leaving.

Within the dream realm, she had witnessed all truths. As a witness, her fear of Lu Mingze had reached its peak, even surpassing that of the queen she served.

This man’s existence was terrifying!

His carefree approach to matters, his power rivaling the world’s strongest, and the madness hidden deep within his soul—the danger he posed might even surpass the Nibelungen in their prime.

With such strength, why did Lu Mingze appear as Phucalos? Was he hinting at something? Or simply unwilling to let anyone harm the Water God?

This called for careful analysis.

“Ah~ another wonderful day.”

Lu Mingfei slowly awoke from the dream, a relaxed and joyful smile gracing his face. He instinctively touched his cheek, as if still feeling the remnants of the dream.

“Ding~”

After a brief moment of savoring the feeling, his phone chimed. Instinctively, he picked it up, glanced at the panda avatar of Old Tang, then put it down again.

If it was a message from him, there was no pressing reason to read it immediately. If not for concern that the fellow might be in trouble, he might have left it on Do Not Disturb mode.

He smiled with relief, lazily lingering in bed a few seconds longer before deciding it was best to check the message. If it was garbage as usual, he could simply turn off notifications—no big loss. But missing important information would be a real setback.

With that, Lu Mingfei picked up his phone and lazily opened Norton’s message.

Norton: I’ve joined Cassell College, and also the Executive Department.

Norton: Cassell College ID.JPG

“Ah?”

Lu Mingfei was momentarily stunned, feeling his head a little fuzzy. He rubbed his eyes and looked again at the message Norton had sent.

Indeed, he had entered Cassell College, and the person on the ID looked exactly like him.

Maybe I’m still half asleep?

“Funina, am I dreaming?” Lu Mingfei asked instinctively.

“Ah, aren’t we separated already? Why are you asking this?” Funina’s voice responded.

“Damn it.”

Lu Mingfei muttered.

According to their analysis, Norton’s situation should be extremely precarious—any moment he might be attacked and killed by Cassell College or Odin. Even if well hidden, he could only live a low-profile and evasive life, or else he would become a target.

But now—

He had joined Cassell College? And had all the proper credentials? What was going on?

“Ding~”

Another message arrived.

Norton: Cassell College is pretty good. They pay me a base salary of $20,000 a month, with full benefits and various perks.

Lu Mingfei: Σ(д|||) What??

“Did something happen on your end?” Funina sensed something was wrong and asked curiously.

Lu Mingfei conveyed the scene to her. After a brief silence, Funina showed the same shocked expression and said tremblingly:

“I think I might not be fully awake either.”

“You can still hear me, my dear. You carry me in your heart,” Lu Mingfei said instinctively.

“The real issue is, why the hell did Norton join Cassell College?! This script is off! Did the people at Cassell College lose their minds? They actually accepted such a dangerous Dragon King?” Funina pounded the bed sheets in disbelief.

“I don’t believe it.”

“Ah? I can’t accept it!”

“Neither can I!”

Lu Mingfei and Funina ranted wildly, while outside Funina’s chamber, a tall man holding tea quietly listened to the sound of her beating the sheets.

He was That Vilet.

He had long noticed something was amiss with Funina but lacked the means to express it.

That morning, he intended to bring her some tea and see if she was awake. If the opportunity arose, he planned to provide some psychological comfort, knowing the heavy burden of the Water God’s position might cause her to act inexplicably in private.

Perhaps she was venting?

That was her true emotion, which she could not show others.

Maybe Funina’s will was not as strong as it appeared. She only showed strength before others, but in hidden corners, she would silently beat the sheets, making strange sounds like a misunderstood little girl.

“Ah.”

That Vilet sighed deeply, then turned away with the tea.

At times like this, Funina needed solitude to vent. If others were present, she would have to put on the Water God’s facade again. Approaching her might not bring joy but only fear and sorrow.

That Vilet understood Funina better than anyone. His heart was delicate and gentle like water.

The Water Dragon King never shed tears; his sadness transformed into Fontaine’s raindrops, whose pitter-patter echoed in every Fontainian’s ears.

(End of chapter)